Destination

August 16, 2004
The Demon Dog is back with a second volume of previously uncollected works (following 1999's Crime Wave
), most published during his stint as a writer-at-large for GQ
. The essays "Where I Get My Weird Shit" and "My Life as a Creep" chronicle his childhood: the 1958 murder of his mother; a West Hollywood upbringing by his sex-obsessed father; a '60s and '70s coming-of-age replete with Benzedrex binges, "Nazi antics" and superheroic feats of breaking and entering. Young Ellroy obsesses over the femme fatales of pulp and porn, whose images he projects onto murder victims and probation officers alike. In "Stephanie," a grown-up Ellroy tags along with the LAPD when a 40-year-old homicide case involving a girl from his old neighborhood is reopened. Ellroy's greatest hits go on—Mexican boxers, dirty cops, D-list celebrity murders—and devotees will especially welcome the return of lecherous muckraker Danny Getchell. The newest additions, three novellas spanning 200 pages, are told from the perspective of rhino-skin-sporting LAPD dick Rick Jenson, who's got a sore spot for a tough 'n' tumble Hollywood actress. Ellroy's punchy, lingo-laden prose and caustic edge are as sharp as ever, but readers unaccustomed to his penchant for alliteration may not be able to stomach the newer stuff, where sentences like "Crime crystallized crisp in my cranial cracks," interspersed with Dragnet
-like reportage, are the order of the day. Agent, Nat Sobel.

November 1, 2004
Master of Los Angeles noir, Ellroy writes novels (e.g., L.A. Confidential) that reflect the dark, gritty underside of American life. This collection of 12 pieces, nonfiction as well as novellas, is representative of his obsessive vision of good and evil, which intertwine to create a nasty shade of gray. All eight essays, as well as one short fiction piece, originally appeared in GQ magazine, while the three long tales are being published for the first time. The personal memoirs are the best writings in Part 1; "Where I Got My Weird Shit" and "My Life as a Creep" are painfully honest evocations of his horrific adolescence and young manhood. The novellas feature reactionary, dog-loving detective Rick Jenson and his decades-long love affair with TV and film actress Donna Donahue. Much in evidence are Ellroy's familiar stylistic features: alliteration; wordplay; short, telegraphic sentences; and the use of excessive violence and graphically rendered sexual practices. Ellroy's fans will want to read this latest collection, while those new to him (and not turned off by his anti-radical, non-politically correct persona) will want to find his other works. Recommended for all public libraries and for those academic libraries that collect quality American fiction and true-crime stories.-Morris Hounion, New York City Coll. of Technology, CUNY

Copyright 2004 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

August 1, 2004
Dig him, hepcats: James Ellroy, demon dog, narrator of nocturnes, alliterative all-star of the caper canon. His Quartet pegged L.A. with coffin nails. He flash-bulbed bad cops unflinchingly. Sin fans salivated. But Ellroy had bigger fish to batter. He went national, notching Bad-Back Jack Kennedy (" American Tabloid," 1995) and his brother Bobby the K (" The Cold Six Thousand," 2001). The demon dog disdained L.A. Hard-core fans howled. Ellroy editorialized for " GQ." Ellroy bipped them big bones. Random House reprints selections. Nonfiction files first. "Where I Get My Weird Shit": " My Dark Places" (1996) redux. "Stephanie": a 16-year-old girl's '65 snuff case. "Grave Doubt": Ellroy investigates a capital crime--and changes his mind about the chair. "My Life as a Creep": he mines his memoirs some more. "I've Got the Goods": why scandal rags were superior to today's supermarket tabs. He falteringly fulfills fiction fans. "The Trouble I Cause": " Hush-Hush" hack Danny Getchell peers into pervy politics. "Rick Loves Donna": a previously unpublished, three-part novella. Detective "Rhino" Rick Jenson and actress Donna Donahue visit violent vortexes. Ellroy riffs. Ellroy rhapsodizes. Ellroy monologues monosyllabic. He digs detectives. He adores authority. But is Ellroy's routine reductively redundant? Is his telegraphic typing a toxic tic? Is he traveling tired turf? Has his macho moralizing metastasized? Do his stooge studies stultify? Yes, yes, yes, yes, and YES. Remember readers, you heard it here, off the record, on the Q.T., and " very" hush-hush: Die-hard fans will dig this--day-trippers will think it's a dud.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2004, American Library Association.)